I'm really just experimenting with some writing. If people like it i will keep updating but I cant guarantee that it be regularly. Chances are I will be one of those people that will get into a story hit a block half way through then not update for another two months until that block is gone. but please bear with me and tell me what you think :)
Rating: T, just to be safe but it could be subject to change at some stage in the future.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter
Chapter 1: Of Fearsome Warriors, Magic and Love.
The light from the upstairs bedroom of number four Privet Drive shone brightly across the dark front garden of the property. If one were to look inside they would see a tall thin woman sitting on the edge of her son's bed, smoothing back the blonde curls from his round dimpled face. Every night she would read aloud from his book of fairy tales in desperate hopes that the child would be tempted into the world of dreams.
"Another one Mummy. Read another one now!", The portly child would demand his fists clenched and curled around the blankets.
"But Diddy-kins, I've read three already don't you think it's time for bed?" she would say sweetly to him as she continued smoothing down his hair.
"No Mummy! I want another one now!" He would once again demand. She would sigh and hand him the book letting him flip through the pages excitedly until he found a story that met his standards. She would sigh and begin to read again.
"This is a tale of fearsome warriors, magic and love. A tale not for the faint hearted!
It begins in a castle the home of a beautiful Princess-"
"Eww, Yuk! I don't like love or princesses. They're for girls! Read something else!" The young boy would demand once again. His Mother would flip through page after page in hopes of finding that would satisfy the child .
Meanwhile downstairs a smaller child would be listening, curled beneath their tattered blankets wishing that his Aunt would finally read the stories of the fearsome warriors, magic and love. Every night he would lay staring at the underside of the stairs hoping that he would one day hear the tales of love. But It wasn't to happen. He knew by now that love didn't exist. He also knew that magic didn't exist. He had the scars to prove it.
Whenever he did something bad his Uncle would tell him so. Magic doesn't exist.
As he drifted off each night he couldn't help but think what his life would be like if magic and love were not just the creations of fairy tales.
Tell me what you think :)